Author of the Queen City Boys books

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many useless things

Wow this DVD has like 9 previews on it. Ridiculous! And most of them are even vaguely similar to the movie. Bleh. Also, yes, Shoot ‘Em Up is a terrible movie. Really terrible. It seems to be entirely a vehicle for Clive Owen to fire guns, say pithy one-liners, and carry a baby around. So, uh, actually it is fucking awesome. However it’s actually Paul Giamatti who is making it suck, which is weird.

Also I am oddly filed with a “Starbucks is not the enemy” rant, but I’ll tamp it down.

Okay, this didn’t start well. I was going to come and write all full of cheer about how much I love my job. How Boss Daddy and Chef Daddy are the best. Even though I complain about work (who doesn’t?) I do love it. Sometimes the light is just exactly right, and it feels so warm and cozy and safe in the restaurant. Sure customers run the entire range from awesome to heinous, but I genuinely like most all my coworkers.

I am quite sure I am losing my mind. My obsession with sewing and crafting is growing at an insane rate. I am starting to look at things like this and think, oh! yeah, I should totally make one of those. I might need an intervention soon.

It is gorgeous outside. Has been for the last few days. But, wow, chilly out this morning. Like genuinely chilly. Oh fall, I can’t stop being ambivalent about you. I want you, I do love you, you know. But still, you are second best, and you mean oncoming winter. So in the end, you will just break my heart, even if I give you all my love.

(I realize sometimes my posts are disjointed and random, but that’s because I often open a window, start typing, then go do other work and come back periodically all day add a sentence or two until I think I am done.)

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I hate 1 am

It sucks.  I’ve only been home for a handful of of minutes.  I’m too jacked up to just go to bed.  I need to, I dunno, decompress.  I could go out for a beer after work, but that would mean I’d be out until 3 or later, and I have stuff to do in the morning. Some times I can hang out and chill, mostly i just want to talk, review the day, get ready for tomorrow.  Feel connected to the universe.  But no one is up when get off work, except people who are already drunk.  I like working from home.  I like the time, the aloneness, the space.  But at the end of the day, I feel a little lonely.  It sucks.

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I’ve got a song in my heart and it is over-caffeinated and not in charge

Today’s songs are:

Bruce Springsteen – Long Walk Home (click to download)

Blue Rodeo – 3 Hours (click to download)

Sometimes I pick a day’s song because I can’t stop listening to it (for instance the recent “Angel of the Morning”).  Other times, like today, I pick them because they came up on my iPod while I was working and something about them struck me.  Today’s specific choices came up back to back and both struck me as particularly meaningful at this day/hour/moment in my life.

When I first started doing this, three or so years ago, I used to post lyrics and try to explain why this particular song.  Now I just post, as I assume any song’s meaning will change with the listener.  So I simply put them out there, because I got something from them emotionally, and maybe you will too.  Also I suspect that only Rhiannonhero is downloading them, and I probably don’t have to explain to her (even though she’d love it if I did). 🙂

I am now sitting here listening to Bruce Springsteen, lamenting that I don’t get to go to the concert tonight.  Boss Daddy and Chef Daddy are going.  I asked Boss Daddy if that meant I was in charge of the restaurant tonight.  In a classic parent move, he told me that both PranavaGirl and I were jointly in charge.  Heh.

This morning I went to the new coffee shop next door where I got a lovely, effusive, friendly greeting from the owners.  They’ve only been open a week or two and I’ve only been in maybe 4 times, but they always thank me and say glad to see me, in a very genuine way.  I mean, yes, new business, so they are glad for my patronage, but seriously, I live 15 yards away, they serve the best coffee ever, so yes, of course I’m gonna be there if means not having to make my own coffee.  Still it’s nice to have people seem so happy to see me first thing in the morning.

Also last night I dreamt I was opening a museum with the cast of Scrubs.  It was going to be an amazing museum which would magically educate everyone in the world to ‘right’ (my way of) thinking.  As you left the museum you’d be routed through a huge book store and after seeing the exhibits everyone would be compelled to buy many books and read.  Hmmm.


rambling ramble time

I can’t sleep, despite having been up until at least 5 am. I’m avoiding calling my mom and telling her about the robbery because she’s on vacation and I don’t want to worry her. Plus, I guess it will just seem more real after telling her. Of course there’s a possibility she’s reading this, so, um, sorry Ma, I’ll call you after coffee when I’m feeling a little more put together.

Since I can’t sleep, here are the things that are keeping me awake:

When I got in my car last night, I saw the kids who robbed me down the street. My first instinct was to get in my car, lock the doors and be on my way ASAP (this is my normal response to being outside at 1 am, alone, and seeing anyone). I hesitated though. I started to click the lock thing on my key fob, but then I remembered that if you do that inside the car it sets off the alarm, so I reached for the actual door lock and right as I was about to click it the dudes pulled my car door open and pulled me out of the car.

In retrospect, maybe I should have set off the alarm, it might have sent them running the other way. I had my keys in my hand the entire time, even after they pulled from the car and forced me to the ground behind the car (I really thought they were going to take the car too, and I’m very glad they didn’t). I could have hit the alarm button at any time, but I didn’t, because they had a gun, and they were very shaky and scared, and I thought setting off the alarm would put me in more personal danger. However, if I’d hit it that second in the car, before they opened the door, it might have made a difference.

A bunch of the guys who where in the bar last night were regulars, who I see a lot. When I went back in to get Boss Daddy to call the cops, they were all hovering around me worrying, etc. Two of them had watched me walk to my car, to make sure I was safe when I left. They saw me get in my car and turned around, went back to their conversation. The guys who robbed me were 100+ feet further down the road, just out of eyesight of the bar window, so while, from the window, I appeared safe in my car, I wasn’t. I believe all the male patrons at the bar feel really guilty for not having walked me to my car. The cop who responded had just cruised by less than 10 minutes before I got robbed. Other bar patrons, also friends of mine, rolled up 5 minutes or less after it happened. I didn’t feel any less safe walking to my car than I ever do. It was just freak accident of time that I was alone, right there, in that moment, in that physical space where no one was watching. I did everything I was trained to do, growing up in an urban environment: had my keys in my hand (so I could get straight into my car with out digging for them), walked with purpose and confidence, locked the car door as soon as I was inside (well, not fast enough, but I couldn’t have been much faster), complied quickly and calmly with the robbers (didn’t argue or freak out). I was in a well lit area, right under a street light, a few dozen feet from a bar with a dozen people inside. But yes, someone probably should have walked me to my car. Still it feels more like freak circumstances that allowed it to happen, like a lightning strike. Not necessarily inevitable, but unexpected, circumstantial and somehow unavoidable.

I’ve never really been one for could have beens. In the aftermath (standing around with the cops for eternity), several people were like, “you could have been shot!” Well, yes, I mean they had a gun, and assuming it was real, I could have been shot. But I wasn’t. And honestly, I’ve heard people who have been in similar situations say how terrifying it was because in the moment they knew they could die, or be or raped or anything could happen. And I didn’t feel like that at all. I felt instantly shocked, angry and resigned. I never really felt like they were going to shoot me. They were scared and they wanted out of there quickly as much as I wanted them out of there. I don’t know. I mean, I’m not saying it wasn’t terrifying, but I think that the sense some people get that anything could have happened, or that they feel really violated is because the person robbed was acutely aware of their loss of control of the situation, complete loss of control of their life, even for a few seconds. And I just don’t feel that way. Well not today anyway, I reserve the right to change how I feel about this a dozen times until I’ve dealt with it, but right now, I don’t feel any less safe than I did yesterday. Sure there’s a sense of violation, yes I’m fucking pissed about having to replace all my shit, but mostly, man, stuff happens. I can’t really control my own life, there’s too many outside factors. I spend most my meditative time letting things go. I think I can let this go too.

I really liked my wallet. I mean, yes, it’s good I’m safe, material things are really unimportant, blah blah blah. But I really liked that wallet and it’s pretty irreplacable.

I am a little disappointed in myself on one count. I spent a lot of time laying awake last night, post robbery, thinking about how alone I was. I mean, recent break-up, just days ago, and I had this sense of horrible loneliness like there was no one I could call, because I had no one to cuddle up with in the aftermath. And honestly, I don’t think I’m that girl, that needs a man to make things better. There’s tons of people I could have called (although I actually couldn’t since the fuckers took my phone) any time of day or night. Ladybug came right out, in her PJs, to get me and stand around with me while cops blathered on endlessly and fingerprinted my car. I have plenty of people around me to take care of me. I can take care of myself and I don’t even need to because of the aforementioned people. I feel weak for having spent time being self-pitying over being single. I feel vaguely stupid that a bad situation highlighted that in my thoughts. Then again, it’s okay, I guess. I mean being broken up with is also a loss of control of the circumstances of one’s life, so it does all sort of blend together.

Now I will go re-enter numbers into my phone until I have to get dressed and go back to work again. hopefully I’ll get a nap in before it’s that time.

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At least I have you, tomato

The proper order of things in the morning is: pee, find clothing, make coffee, drink a little coffee, make food, get on the internets.  If this master order of things is deviated from bad things can happen.  Like say if I start checking mail and blogs before coffee, I get sucked into the weirdest things.

This morning, while attempting coffee, I dropped a cup on my foot, tried to put coffee grounds in the coffee maker without first putting in a filter (caught myself just in time), started the coffee maker without putting in water, etc.   Now I really need that coffee.

My landlord does some lame things.  Not very many, or very often, in fact so rarely that I am going to give him the benefit of the doubt this time and blame the idiot landscaping guys.  The new complex next to us is almost finished and businesses in it are starting to open (YAY smoothie shop!).  The bushes in front of my yard are very hard to see around when pulling out of my driveway, or the new complex.  And though it does cause a loss of some of my privacy on my porch and in my yard, it is not unreasonable to cut them back so folks can see oncoming traffic when pulling out.  I assume my landlord told the idiot landscaping guys to cut the bushes.  I assume the landlord meant the bushes along the front of the property.  The landscaping guys–the same ones who tried to weedwhack out all the blooming tulips, who once cut the cable line where it comes into the house, who I really think are idiots–yes, those landscaping guys, cut down all the bushes in the front yard.  Thus even further reducing my privacy, and eliminating much of the shade on my porch.

The loss of privacy and shade is extra sucky because, as I said, there are now businesses going in next door, which means more traffic.  Previously we had lots of natural cover and shade around the porch and no people at all next door.  ARGH!  Also we just got a hammock for the porch.  Nothing says relaxing while laying on one’s own porch as people pass by and peer at you.  Ugh.

Yes, I am purchasing bamboo shades for much of the porch.  Yes, I am pissy about it.  Yes, I am sure it’ll all be fine in the end.  It’s out of my control anyway. I did ask the land lord to put a motion sensor light over our driveway, so at least the cars, hopefully, won’t get broken into again and I can have some light when I come home in the middle of the night. And hey, I can hear the guys out there banging around and putting it up right now.


Hmm, I have coffee now.  The next question is, should I have ice cream for breakfast or make something a little more healthy?

Despite the pre-coffee grumps, and yesterday’s mostly foul mood, there are definitely good things in my life.  Work is okay.  I mean, waiting tables isn’t rocket science, and the economy sucks, but overall, I still love it.  Whopperjaw remains charming and entertaining.  Which is awesome, but also he is cute, so I might keep him around even after the shiny charm wears off. Heh.  Poor Ladybug has been sick, but she seems on the mend and we’ve got the awesome Nashtastic coming this weekend.  And it’s Tomatofest!  And the weather report fo rthe weekend? “Sunny and delightful.” that is to say, not hot for the the tomato fun. Wheee!

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sunny days, chasing the blues away

Am better than I was yesterday.  Low blood sugar? Hormones? Who knows, it was just wreckitude all around.  Work last night was INSANE. Busy is good because you make cash, but man, I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen it like that on a Thursday night in the summer.  YIKES.

Lucero tonight! WOO! Am anticipating being hungover tomorrow.  Lucero always does it.  I swear, even if I didn’t drink tonight, I’d still be hungover tomorrow.

Song for the day: What Else Would You Have Me Be – Lucero (click to download)

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memory: body and mind

Last night I dreamt of complicated relationships, both romantic and platonic.  I ran through sleep confused and little sad.  Mostly trying to get to my big sister, so I could talk to her, so I could relax, so I could stop worrying. There was a nice date in the dream that consisted of lots and lots of of amazing Chinese food.  And closets full of clothes I’ve never seen. But mostly it was dreams of painful situations and anxiety and complications.  Um, Boots, clearly I need to call you today.  I have a ton to do, but I’mna try and set some time to empty my head to you.

Sometimes I feel like the past chases me in this weird way. Like I rarely dwell on it.  I remember the good times fondly and I’ve made peace with the bad parts. I live entirely in the present and look positively toward to future all the time (maybe too much, but that’s a story for a different day). And yet the past often haunts my dreams.  Not specific incidents, but people from all through it, elementary school, High school, college, last week, all seem to pop up in random storylines in strange dreamscapes. I don’t know what this means.  If I should look more to the past, or if I should simply remember that going forward I am only made up of the past.  I am nothing but an accumulation of my experiences and so, even if I’ve made peace, I am still carrying all the past with me?

Work last night was killer.  I am generally aware that I have one of the most simple jobs.  It’s really pretty easy for the most part.  But, wow, fuck me, after having a week off, I’d forgotten how hard it is to wait tables.  By the end of the night, my back hurt, I was exhausted.  I could talk to people just fine, but I’d lost the body memory of the job.  Like I wasn’t able to move around right in the kitchen and cramped spaces with other employees, I was bumping into things and generally was not at all graceful.

Also it was nearly 90 at midnight last night and swampy.  The rains rolled in this morning.  The thunder was incredibly long and loud and close for for what seemed a very long time.  Like storm wasn’t rolling over, but rather just hanging over us.


a night in the life of…

I really need help with a project I’m working on.  I don’t suppose there is anyone out there reading who is a CSS wiz, who can spend an hour or so helping me?  Yeah.  Damn it.  I’m not outside my skill set, so much as I’ve hit a point where I can’t seem to look at it from the right angle anymore.

Not doing much more than working, and not much of it exciting enough to talk about, but let me tell you about my night last night.

First of all, I wasn’t even supposed to be at the restaurant.  Several people were going to cover my shift for me, but in the end, every single one fell through.  So there I am at work, Ladybug is off, alone, at the show I want to be at.  All I can hear in my head, over and over, is Dante from Clerks saying, “I’m not even supposed to be here today.”

Despite that, it started off promisingly enough.  My first table was a couple of my friends, and a couple of their friends.  Since it wasn’t yet busy, I got to finish my own dinner relative peace, and hang with my friends a little too.  It went downhill fast from there, in small and large ways.  I spilled basalmic on my white shirt. Luckily I had a cardigan on for stain hiding.  At my second table of the night (Table 4) I spilled water.  Fortunately they were really nice, fun people and just laughed and joked with me.  My next table was an older couple.  I bought them their dinner, with a cheerful, nice comment.  And then the husband just laid into me.  He had a problem with his meal. And hey, I can take complaints, I want to make people happy.  But he was just mean, intentionally, cruelly and exceptionally mean.  I offered to have his dinner re-made immediately, no waiting, but he declined.  He just wanted me to know that he was really angry (he said exactly that).  So I tell the chef, and the manager goes over and tries to smooth it over with the guy.  He is mean to her as well. She tells me to comp his meal (which I’d actually already done).   I check my other tables, then brace myself and go over to fill the water glasses at the table of meanness.  When I get there, the wife just silently hands me her credit card.  I go run it, come back, apologize to the man again and wish them a good night.

By now I’m almost shaking with anger, and that yucky fight or flight response.  I can’t really explain how horribly vitriolic he was, how much other, scary, anger there seemed to be in this man.  His wife seemed sort of resigned, like this happened a lot.  I’m pretty sure it does happen often and I’m fairly sure that he does it for the power trip and to get a free meal. (He did, in fact, eat every single thing on his plate.)

Although they are gone, I can’t quite get over it, can’t shake off how awful the man made me feel.  But business is picking up, Saturday night busy so I soldier on.  Most my tables are great, really especially great.  Table 4, the one I’d earlier spilled on, is a cute young gay couple and their female friend.  All are wonderful and sweet and having a great time.  They saw the whole thing and are very concerned that man was mean to me (they even wrote me a very sweet note on the back of their check later). Then one of my tables left with their check.  Not a huge deal, as I’d run their card, but it means I lose the tip (they took the signed slip) and that I have to write a new check and recreate their order (which sometimes is easy, sometimes isn’t).  Like I said, not a huge deal, but it felt close to the last straw, and fleetingly I wondered if I wasn’t going to end up crying by the end of the night.

The band started, and they were excellent, although pretty loud. A couple in their early 20s came in, with a single male friend of similar age.  I didn’t realize at first, but it became clear pretty quickly that the dude was drunk.  He kept high-fiving me, and asking increasingly inappropriate questions.  His friends appeared sympathetic, apologetic and slightly embarrassed.  Fortunately they didn’t stay long.  Drunk Dude insisted on paying the check.  He tracked me down by the waitress station and as I ran his card, he asked me if all the other servers were jealous of me because I was so much prettier than them.  I said I didn’t think so.  He kept insisting that they must be jealous.  Finally he left. (He tipped pretty well, and his friends tossed another $10 on the table, I assume to apologize for him again.)

A little later, he returned, with different friends, though Drunk Dude stayed outside and sent his other friend in to talk to me. Apparently Drunk Dude wanted to see me alone, outside, so he could “ask me something important.”  YIKES.  My hands were full of plates I was running back to the kitchen and I told the friend that I was too busy, sorry.  And after a few minutes they left. GAH!

Still the night was looking up, as I said, most of my tables were really nice.  I had a group of five who had eaten, and were ordering another round of drinks.  The band was loud, and I couldn’t quite hear the guy furthest from me.  So he told the woman next to him what he wanted, she told the guy next to her, and he told me. “Pork shank?” I repeated back, as loundly as I could, slightly confused, as they had already eaten, but some people wanted weird things for dessert, I guess. They all nodded, smiling, in agreement. “Pork shank?” I asked again. Smiles and nods. Okay. I deliver their next round of beers. Check my other tables and ten minutes or so later deliver the pork shank. At the table I met with blank stares and confusion.  After a second we suss out that he wanted “port wine” not “pork shank.” We are all laughing pretty hard.  I give them the shank anyway and run to get the port.

I thought I was going injure myself laughing so hard at my mistake.  The table all tasted the shank and declared it amazing, assured me they would order it the next time they were in. They even expressed suprise later then I didn’t charge them for it.  Of course not, it was my mistake (also the shanks are small, like drumstick sized and only $3, so it wasn’t really a huge deal).

In the end it was decent night, cash wise, and really most my tables were wonderful.  But, truly, one bad apple can ruin it all. Stupid mean man.

Hey, y’all, how you doin’ today?

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hippies, squid and crying (no this isn’t about Bonarroo)

For some reason my eyes won’t stop watering today. I hope this doesn’t become an ongoing thing. Not only does it interfere with my vanity (makes my eye make up run and no one wants to look like they are crying all the time), but it is kind of uncomfortable.

It is past noon in Tennessee and I am not hot. Seriously after days of over 90 temps, this high 70s stuff feels AWESOME. Perfect, beautiful weather. Too bad I am inside working. Bleh.

I spent my weekend in Memphis with Whopperjaw the Exceptionalist (such an unwieldy nickname that it suits him perfectly). I ate the real deal calamari (squiggly and without deep fried breading), excellent scallops (not quite the ones at Wild Ginger but great nonetheless), paella that WtE made for me himself. All in all a lovely, fun, relaxing weekend. Sadly I feel even more overwhelmed by how much work I need to get done now. And my schedule at the restaurant is in crazy flux because we are still short a good back-up person. Ugh. It seems no matter what I do the more time I have the more I end up needing to get done.

News from the town where I was born. See? You know I’m not really a hippie, just from the West Coast where we are all hippies to some extent. But man, this is where I am from. I may look like a hippie in Tennessee but that’s only because people don’t have these kind of whackjobs to compare me too.

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breif breifing

I have a lot to say, but mostly I am to busy. Or tired.  Or whatever. So you get uninteresting bullet points:

  • The restaurant I work at was robbed at gunpoint this past Weds night.  I wasn’t there, as my flight in from Seattle was delayed.
  • I’m working on a huge new project that involves far too much staring at code, thinking, planning, and like work.  Ack work! Ha.  It is satifying but time consuming without much to show for it yet.
  • K is here for the week.  Apparently she missed the heat, or she brought it with her, I’m not sure which, but I am damned sweaty.
  • I have many pictures to upload and share.  Someday.
  • I was going to tell you about everything I ate in Seattle but I suspect I won’t get around to it.

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Ginger and rhubarb are really good friends

Things I meant to tell you yesterday:

At work the other night a couple of regulars came in and while I know them on sight, I hadn’t much talked to them. It turns out they are from Seattle. I like really from Seattle, grew up there and everything. So we talked for a while comparing high schools, neighborhoods we’ve lived in etc. As it happens, they live like 9 blocks from me for a while, and they moved to Nashville the same week I did! Totally bizarre! I am glad to have new back-home friend here. Hooray.

Another friend of mine was in the bar later and was pretty drunk. As he left he pulled a classic, “I love you, man” on me. Except nicer, telling me how much better I make the world, how people in general should try and be like me and on and on and on. It was very sweet. Sometime I forget that people really like me. I mean, I’m not all moping around, “I guess I’ll eat some worms,” but sometimes you really click with people and it’s good to be reminded of that. Even if it takes the effusive, unrestrained love of drunk folks to make that reminder.

I wore the cute green plaid dress to work. All the boys noticed. I don’t mean in an oo-la-la kind of way. Usually a cute dress will garner comments from other women, asking where you got it or just telling you it’s cute. It takes a very special dress for half a dozen guys to comment on it. I mean the fact they even noticed seems impressive. It probably didn’t hurt that I was rocking the whole 50s looks, sans irony or cheesy rockabillyness.

Right now, on my TV, Jamie Oliver is making rhubarb compote with honey sweetened yogurt and ‘cookies’ made of puff pastry coated in sugar and cinnamon and pan fried. This is so close to the hippie desserts of my childhood. I want it so badly. It would appear that I am making brunch tomorrow. I wonder if I can get rhubarb at the farmer’s market this early? Also Jamie just said, “I’m going to make a fantastic dish that I made up out of thin air the other day.” God, I love him so much. Maybe I’ll have an all Jamie Oliver recipes brunch tomorrow… Oh, “groundnut oil” hehehehehe! I swear I could write pages of running commentary on lovely Jamie’s own comments.

Seriously, Jamie’s food is sooooo distracting. I had other things to say. Let’s see, uh… Oh! So last night I was talking to this cute boy I met recently and after two meetings with me he was somehow laboring under the impression that I had two teenage daughters.

“Ginger and rhubarb are really good friends.” Oh, Jamie! He’s beating ginger biscuits with a stick. Hehehehehe. Perhaps I shouldnn’t try and do anything else when I’m watching Jamie Oliver. It’s really so distracting. Rhubarb custard souffle? Nomnomnom.

Anyway, wow, two teenage daughters? Me? Seriously? Sure, I guess I am old enough for that, but no. No. No. No. Miss Sparkle wondered if he wasn’t confusing her and Ladybug with teenage daughters, rather than housemates. Miss Ladybug wondered if he didn’t have some crazy drunken dream in which he recreated me as a more bizarre character than I already am. I find over all I’m pretty disturbed by the entire thing. Yes, I’m not having kids, but I do take parenting very seriously so I think maybe I’m just really shocked that anyone would think that someone with my lifestyle was a parent. Yikes.

Of course, if I did have teenagers, I could send them out to work and make them support me in my old age. Heh. That’d be nice.

I should go wake Ladybug up and get started on our errands for the day. Number one, buy a fan for my room. It’s finally warm enough that I couldn’t sleep last night. I’m sure it was just a week ago that I went to sleep in sweatpants and worried that there weren’t enough blankets on the bed.

There was some discussion of swimsuit shopping today. As there is poolside sitting in our future. I think I am in denial about it still. Ugh.

Now Jamie’s making vodka/rhubarb cocktails. Why am I not tiny enough to live in his pocket and sample everything he makes?

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Yes, work still consuming my fucking off time.  Lots to say, no time to say it.  Got clothes and  a song of the day and not much else for you:

DealershipFaded Crushes (clock to download)

When I have time, maybe later today, hopefully I will remember to tell you about work last night, the people from home, the love of drunks, and boys & dresses but for now I will leave you with today’s dress:

Although I’m wearing it in dark brown (I did buy both dark brown and the pretty purple). I think it looks way cuter on me than it does in that picture.

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Looong day.  Work, training, lalalalalala,  busy busy busy restaurant night.  Got off at ten, was going to drink a beer and go home. But then halfway through the beer Boss Daddy decided it was time for us all to sample the new sake for the menu.  And we had a taste and it was delicious.  Then he wandered away and left the bottle and a clean sake cup in front of me. Well…  I had a little more and got teased by Chef Daddy. And so, while I’m not drunk, I am a bit tipsier than I intended.  Ugh. I have to get up early tomorrow and get my shiny new Server Permit card.  In Tennessee this means sitting through a five hour class where they will teach me to tell if people are drunk and impress upon me not to serve drunk people more alcohol.  Do I really need this? No. But it is the law. Alas.

Also Sheryl Crow came into the bar tonight.  That was weird.  I wouldn’t even have recognized her, except this atrocious, badly dressed girl who sang tonight came up to me and told me she needed a different table because she was singing tonight and she needed a new table, because her friends were coming to watch her sing and she needed a place with a good view of the stage. Okay. And then she said, “My friend, Sheryl Crow, might come down and I want her to have a good seat.”  On the one hand, okay, sure, if she hadn’t said this to me, I wouldn’t have recognized miss Sheryl.  On the other, girl, don’t be an ass, I mean, just say your friends are coming, it’s Nashville, you don’t need to name drop, it makes you look like a douche.

So Sheryl Crow was in my way, saying goodbye to people, and I had to edge around her to go help a table, I put my hand very lightly on her hip and said, “Sorry, darlin’, right behind you.”  And she moved and smiled and said, “Sorry, honey, let me get out of your way.”  She looks much older than expected up close and she’s tiny.  But she seemed nice and very genuine and I think she had a nice time because no one recognized her, or bothered her anyway.

Yes, bed now.  Must go learn things in the morning.

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windy morning

The wind woke me up. When the rain wakes me up I can usually go back to sleep. Even if I can’t it’s somewhat soothing to lay there and listen to it. The wind however makes me slightly anxious with it’s weird loudness. But I heave delicious toast and coffee. I will make egg with bacon and avocado when Ladybug gets up. So all things considered, it’s worth being up. Granted they won’t be fancy noodley ribbons of crepe thin eggs a la Jamie Oliver, but I expect goodness nonetheless. I mean, with avocado and bacon how can one really go wrong, you know?

Work was crazy last night. The full range from local regulars bringing their parents in to big tipping frat boys to groups of 5 young 20-somethings who sit for hours and order $13 worth of stuff. But oddly, despite being way too busy a couple times, being full of somewhat obnoxious customers and everyone else working not appearing to have a great night, I had an awesome time. And not just because my favorite dinner regulars come in (they are from Seattle) with some visiting family members (visiting from Seattle) and they wanted me to sit and talk with them (about Seattle!).

I have way too many things to do today and right now I am so scattered I can’t even order myself to figure out what they are.

Also I could happily live the rest of my life without ever seeing that “KY Yours and mine” commercial. Bleh.